Chapter Two:
"I've got some bad news."
"What do you mean 'bad news'?" The girl asked turning fully in her seat to see me properly.
"What does it sound like to you?" I snapped at her before directing my gaze to the questioning thin boy standing before me. "You know how we were supposed to meet the back up pilot at the supermarket, right? Well it turns out that the place turned out to be a base full of Ozzies."
Trowa's eyes widened. "An OZ base?"
"Yeah, and according to what I could get from Quat's message the three of them got separated." I replied.
"Why would Doctor J tell Heero to meet someone at an OZ base without telling him he'd be walking on enemy grounds?" Trowa asked skeptical.
"Because Doctor J's a moron." Our captive interjected.
"Who asked you--" I started to say, but she went on as if she didn't hear me.
"Professor G changed the time and place /because/ he thought it would've been suspicious and stupid to walk into enemy hands without being prepared. Doctor J must've not sent an update in the plans." She stated. "Originally, I was supposed to meet you there, having hidden my MS first, and tell you of the next objective."
"Which was?" Inquired Trowa, turning to face her.
"The OZ base." She replied simply. "What I don't get is why they wouldn't have briefed you about it beforehand unless they sent a message and you didn't get it."
"Heero's a stickler when it comes to checking messages. I can't see how he'd have missed such obvious information." I retorted.
"Well it's that or the orders weren't relayed." She replied coolly.
"Yeah? And why would the docs not tell us something as important as that?" I asked coldly. She shrugged before sighing.
"Look, I understand the fact that I'm a suspect from OZ according to you guys, but isn't it a bit more imperative that we get the others out of that place soon?"
"You underestimate the three of them?" Trowa inquired, leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed. The girl bit her lip and the tall boy nodded, "Quatre, Heero, and Wufei are very well trained for such things."
"Well, I'm sure they are-- actually, I /know/ they are, but if they were unprepared..." She trailed off with a hopeless gesture of her hands.
"Yes, that is an issue." Trowa admitted. "And so is the fact that the three of them got separated, if we've assumed right that is."
"Then what do we do?" I asked from the couch, a bit anxious. Nobody answered me though. "Well?"
"I don't know." Trowa replied. "We can't exactly rush in there without a plan. Not to mention that /she/," he gestured to our unexpected guest, "is still unidentified as a friend or foe."
"Arrrrgh!!" She pulled at her golden locks in frustration and sat down exasperated. "I can't believe this!"
"Better get used to it." I told her. "We have to be very careful on who we let in on our mission plans."
"Isn't there some way I can prove my fucking innocence?!" She cried. I looked to Trowa, but he shook his head.
"It has to be a unanimous decision."
I scoffed at that, "Well, that's a no brainer. We already know what the others would say."
"Oh? Then what would the outcome be?" Goldie Locks asked, impatient.
I smiled, "I'd say the votes are probably against you. Wufei would put his foot down in disagreement and then probably go off into a rant on how 'woman are weak'--"
"What!?" She blurted.
"--And Heero would probably scoff at you, but don't worry, he does that to everyone. Quatre would probably be the only one to openly accept you." I continued.
"Yeah, and what about you two?" She asked disheartened.
I looked up at Trowa before turning back to her glowering face, "Well, I'm game. Dunno about T-man though."
The girl's light blue eyes chanced a quick glance at Trowa upon his nickname before snapping back to me thinking better of annoying him. Trowa responded to the name with a slight twitch of his eye, but otherwise remained as calm and collected as always. He sighed suddenly and walked over to Heero's laptop.
"Whatcha doin'?" I asked curious. I'm sure he knew it was extremely dangerous to touch Heero's laptop.
"Desperate times call for desperate measures." He murmured before booting up the machine.
It flashed blinding blue before settling and asking for a password. Trowa's magnificently long fingers tapped at the keys diligently, trying different words, numbers, and combinations. After a few minutes at this work his brow creased in mild frustration.
"I told ya, this is Heero we're talking about. He's not about to let anyone gain access to his precious--"
"Ah ha!" Came the slight cheer from the lanky boy and then a slight smirk spread across his features.
"Y-you got in?" I asked surprised. No, not surprised, shocked, that word seems much more appropriate. "What was the password!?"
He glanced at me, that smirk still sitting smugly on his face, but he turned away and began fiddling with the keys again.
"H-hey! Come on! Tell me!" I whined, leaning over to get a better glance at the compute screen.
Apparently Trowa found what he was looking for because he shut down the computer and walked over to me to pick up the small black cell phone. I stared at him quizzically, willing him to let me know what was going on. But he was tight lipped and I angrily pouted, crossing my arms and leaning back against the itchy couch. He made to dial a number, but then paused and looked at me.
"What?" I spat.
He chucked the phone at me, "Call G."
"Why?"
"Just call him and then give me the phone."
"Why don't you just call him?" I argued. He turned that deadly, green orb on me and I did as instructed, though thoroughly annoyed.
I barely caught the slight giggle that escaped Goldie Lock's throat and vowed to strangle her when this was done and over with. I dialed Professor G's secret number (man that sounds so lame) and listened to it ring a few times. G picked up after a minute or so.
"Pestilence lecturing." Came the sly, chronic voice of the old man.
"Death not listening." I replied into the phone, while rolling my eyes at our old code.
"Ah, Duo, I thought I'd have heard from you earlier." He spoke more freely, but still in that prolonged, nasally voice.
"Is that so?" I asked not really caring. "Listen, my mad co-pilot wanted me ta call ya, dunno why exactly... Anyway, he wants to talk to ya." I said looking at Trowa a bit uncertain.
The boy nodded affirmative and reached out for the phone. I gave it to him and he spoke into the phone, "Trowa Barton; pilot 03."
A puzzled look suddenly crossed the older boy's face; a rare sight for him. I chuckled a little.
"Did he ask for your code name?" T nodded a bit unsure and I smiled, "Lion Hopper."
"What?" He asked in disbelief.
"You heard me. Lion Hopper." This was too good. "Tell him you're 'Lion Hopper' and he'll speak freely to you."
"Why?" He demanded. I could hear the old man laughing up a storm on the other end.
"Because, that's how I refer you to him." I replied simply.
If looks could kill I'd be rolling in my grave.
"...Lion Hopper..." It looked as if every syllable pained the slim boy and I smiled in relish. Goldie Locks covered her mouth to hide a smile, and perhaps repress a giggle.
Trowa continued the conversation in a slightly irked tone, but otherwise as smooth and calm as ever. "We've been told by outside sources that the super market you and the others relayed us to was an OZ base instead of the meeting ground for the back up pilot." He listened as the doc undoubtedly explained /something/ to him before answering with an, "I see."
"We have someone hear claiming to be the back up. Female, long blonde hair, looks to be fifteen."
Smugly, Goldie leaned against the kitchen table and examined her nails.
"Oh. I see." Trowa monotonously continued. A few scarce words were exchanged before he gave the phone back to me.
"Not a very lively one, eh?" Old G inquired, humored.
I smiled, "Afraid not, but better than Destruct-O Boy."
"Don't think I'd fancy meeting him. J talks most highly of his human incapabilities." G drawled.
"He's not that bad." I replied, a bit defensive. "Anyway, she is...?"
"Yes, she's the back up as she's been telling you." G affirmed. "Now, onto more pressing matters: Get the other three pilots out of that base. You weren't briefed for specific reasons."
"Like what?"
"That is to be discussed at a later date. Pestilence out."
And the old man hung up on me.
I stared at the phone for a minute, annoyed, before clicking it off, "So, Goldie, what's your name?"
"Lydia." She spoke, looking up from her nails. "Lydia Ruggs."
"Ruggs?" I asked, slightly amused.
"Yeah." She answered, looking as if she was about to stare at her nails again, but then she snapped her eyes back on me, "What's wrong with 'Ruggs'?"
"Nothing, nothing." I put my hands up, feigning innocence.
"And what kind of name is Duo?" She retorted, arms crossed.
"Ouch. That hurt." I mocked, rubbing my chest. "It's a name honoring someone, if you're really that interested."
She looked away, a bit embarrassed by her tasteless comeback.
"So, T, what's our plan?" I asked looking over to the bored looking boy.
He remained silent, apparently still contemplating our options, and Lydia, well, she looked like she might be regretting becoming our back up. She seemed kind of sensitive, not overly defensive, but the defense mechanism was definitely there. Maybe it wasn't even that though, maybe she was trying to act tough to prove to us she was capable of 'being one of the guys'? If that was the case then it was worse than being defensive. We don't need some macho woman; enough of the egotists under this roof already.
Lydia Ruggs. The name just didn't seem to sit well together. Maybe Lydia Moon or Sindy Ruggs, but not Lydia Ruggs. The names just seemed bad for one another. Names need to have some kind of compatible flow. Maybe that's why she seemed a bit self-conscious. Actually, it might not be just her name. Her body was rather curvy, not necessarily those perfect curves you see on woman in movies and magazines (more specifically the dirty ones), but it was hard to miss the wide hips and breasts even in that black space suit she was in. She had a bit of stomach too; unbecoming for American teenage girls.
"What are you staring at?" She snapped, crossing her arms across her chest.
"I wasn't /staring/, merely looking." I responded trying to suppress my grin. She glared blue daggers at me and I laughed.
Until Trowa glared at /me/ anyway. He spoke once I shut up, "Well, I guess we're just going to have to go in undercover. We can't afford to bring the Gundams out of hiding."
"So, stealth, guns, bombs?" I asked.
He nodded at me and then to Lydia he said, "I'd suggest putting your hair up and maybe hiding it under a hat. The color could attract unwanted attention."
I guess she figured that to be slightly complementary and began to braid her hair. "You should probably do the same, Duo." Trowa said to me. "I'm going to grab the supplies."
"Roger that." I saluted as he began walking to the door. The weapons were stashed out in the small garage.
"Oh, Duo," He stopped and turned to me, a smirk spreading across his face, "You wanted to know Heero's password right?"
I looked at him uncertain.
"It's 'Duo cyo-mukatsuka'." I stared.
"What the hell does that mean?"
"You'll have to ask Heero that."
"How do /you/ know what it means?!" I demanded, but he only smiled.
"/That's/ for calling me 'Lion Hopper'. Baka."
I bit my tongue aware it was a losing battle, but it certainly didn't stop me from wishing immense ill on the boy. I'd find some wondrous prank to pull on him in the next day or two, he could count on that. Heero was another matter though. 'Cyo-mukatsuka'... Something tells me that's /not/ a compliment, whatever it means; especially if its from Heero Yuy... [1]
[1] It literally means, "Very sickening", but it is usually used when you describe people you despise :-p.